II
Ferris Wheel

Let that sink in
You can think again
When the hand you wanna hold is a weapon and
You're nothin' but skin

+.+.+.+.+.+

Another grumble of thunder sounded as they reached the Ferris wheel and came to a stop, lightning piercing the sky behind the bright circle. It moved slowly and paused to linger every few moments before continuing.

Taishi was right, it was tame. Arima wondered why Minami favored it. If she had, in fact, been telling the truth.

"The line's pretty short," the girl announced breathlessly. "I think we might make it."

She led them over, slower now, and they calmly stopped behind a smaller group. Arima glanced over to see her still staring up at the Ferris wheel, free hand held against her neck as an easy smile lingered.

Through her wrist, he could feel her pounding pulse, so like his. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt a ghoul's before and he admittedly found the lack of difference startling.

Even in the Garden…even there, he'd only ever been close enough to fight or kill the ones he'd been ordered to, stealing their pulse away yet never actually feeling it run alive.

"Minami-san," he muttered quietly.

"Hm?" She glanced to him, looking stunned. Like he'd woken her.

He glanced to their hands purposefully. "You can let go now."

"Ah!" She released him immediately and took a step away. "Right, sorry."

She bent her head and he watched as a very real blush crossed her face.

The array and genuine nature of her emotional responses was perplexing.

What was she playing at?

…was she playing?

He willingly ignored that question as a sprinkle of cold rain touched his arm, followed by a few more. Looking up, the stray droplets fell onto his glasses, obscuring his vision.

"Oh no…" she said from beside him. "We didn't make it."

Arima considered his next words heavily as he stared at the sky.

He could very easily get out of going on the ride. All he had to do was agree with her statement.

But then…why not go on it? He had nothing in particular against it.

He glanced sideways and down at her, tilting his head.

"I don't mind the rain."

She glanced up quickly, first surprised and then uncertain. "…are you sure?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "It's up to you."

She offered a smile and nodded, "okay, yeah. I don't mind either."

He simply returned her nod before looking away and toward the ride as it came to another stop. The condensation slid down his glasses then dropped to the pavement at his feet.

"It is an indescribable sensation," he heard her softly say beside him, "that of revolving through such a vast orbit in a bird cage."

Arima looked down at her and she lifted her gaze to his. He quirked a brow curiously and she smiled.

"A reporter named Robert Graves said that about the first Ferris Wheel in 1893."

He blinked and tilted his head, thinking the words over. He was sure they held some insight that would explain her fascination with the ride.

"Makes you think, doesn't it?" She said, correctly reading his face before she looked up at the revolving wheel again. "The world is so vast, but we're caged just like that, aren't we? Always trapped in ourselves."

Arima's eyes flicked to the ride briefly before falling to the girl again.

What do I do with this?

Rather than answering that question, he considered her words as he would if they'd been delivered by anyone else.

She was right, after all. He certainly felt caged in, unable to touch the vastness of all that surrounded him.

"It does," he nodded. "Make you think."

She sighed then let out a laugh, "I'm sorry, Arima-kun. I'm taking this too seriously, aren't I?"

"Maybe but…" he shrugged again. "It doesn't bother me or anything."

"You're really kind."

He didn't respond to that, unsure if he even could.

They were ushered onto the ride a moment later and took their seat. Minami held the bar in front of them while Arima propped an elbow against the side and lowered his chin to rest on his palm as he stared up at the sky.

They rose higher, travelling closer to the top at a crawling pace. The wind whipped at him fiercely as they gained higher altitude and the drops of rain turned to a steady, frozen drizzle.

The lights and people fell away beneath them again, and Arima suddenly experienced a surge of isolation as a clap of thunder roared, sounding closer now, and lightning outlined the jagged shapes of the clouds against the dark sky holding them.

His fist clenched beneath his chin before he slowly turned his head, only to immediately tense as he caught Minami watching him. Her hair was damp in the rain and she held her arms around her waist as she tilted her head. Another flash of lightning brightened her features and her ghoulish nature was suddenly present in her eyes as that dangerous glint passed through them again.

He slowly lowered his arm, wondering if she was about to take this opportunity to attack. He prepared himself for it.

"Arima-kun…"

"Hm?"

He held her gaze firmly and she held on until the edge in her eyes softened and she looked away with another blush. "…nevermind."

His mouth parted as his brows creased.

More confusing than her behavior was his reaction to the realization that she wasn't about to strike.

He was relieved.

Her words from a moment ago came back to him, disturbingly clawing at his mind

Caged. Trapped in herself. A ghoul in a human world. Caged by what she was.

What if…? He thought before he stopped himself.

He couldn't question it now. It would change too much. There were no "what if's" when it came to ghouls.

But…what if? His mind whispered again, rebelliously.

What if there were some humanity in her? What then? If she didn't eventually attack him or Taishi, unlikely as that was, what would he do? What would it mean?

He risked observing her from that perspective, taking in the profile of her turned face as she stared up at the violent, angry sky.

He observed her as he had never observed a ghoul before. As a person.

She began swinging her legs and lifted a hand to sweep her hair behind her ear before she noticed his stare and blinked in silent question.

What if she is genuine and none of this is a game?

She was still Lantern, she was still terrorizing their classmates in the streets, mercilessly devouring them.

And he had still been assigned to deal with it.

But the knowledge that there might be some humanity there complicated all of it.

They're vicious, cunning, heartless monstrosities, he recalled what he had always been told. The natural enemy of human beings.

Arima had never been quite sure where he fell on that spectrum, given his own roots, yet in the Garden — a sanctuary for the offspring of a ghoul and human being — it had always been made very clear that those like him were born predominately human and were considered gifted with abilities to aid the human race in their defense against the ghouls who indiscriminately preyed on them.

There were ghoul children in the Garden as well, but his kind had always been separate from them. They'd been told the ghouls were there for the sole purpose of research.

A stirring, sickening suspicion began to prick at the edges of his intuition and Arima glanced away to compose himself.

He was letting Minami get under his skin. Was he really going to allow one ghoul to unravel his upbringing? The very purpose of his existence?

No. Even if it was true…it didn't change what he had to do.

And if she doesn't attack?

Arima couldn't seem to suppress the questions and he calmly closed his eyes to regain control.

And then the drizzle of rain became a downpour, cutting through his sweater and the shirt beneath, running down his skin and soaking through his hair.

He welcomed the distraction and began to shiver before looking up to the sky and at the thunderstorm now raging around him.

The sound of protesting shouts and shrieks sounded from the other passengers and Arima finally glanced over to see Minami grinning up at the sky, her eyes closed. The rain poured down on her face and the lightning revealed an authentic look of bliss.

She finally straightened and noticed him before laughing in embarrassment as she lifted a shoulder shyly and glanced down.

He nearly shook his head, eyes narrowing as he took her in.

How could that ghoul he'd seen, taking such ecstasy in the pain and blood of her peers, be the same…person as the girl sitting beside him?

And which was she really? The monster trying to deceive him or the girl caged inside of it?

He turned his head and wearily lifted a hand to remove his glasses to shake off the condensation. He blinked slowly, eyes tired before he sighed and began to lift the glasses again. However, he instantly stilled as he felt Minami move forward and place a hand over his arm.

He glanced sideways, mentally preparing himself again, before he saw her smirk softly.

"I never see you without your glasses."

Arima lowered his hand, glasses still held there and raised his head to stare down at her fully. He wasn't sure what she was trying to see, but didn't see the harm in obliging her.

It did feel strange though. Without the window he'd grown accustomed to watching the world behind, he was reminded how unclear everything was. It was all entirely blurred save for the girl who was the sole point of detail.

"Hm…" she leaned forward, peering closer.

Her eyes didn't leave his and she tilted her head, seeming to be searching still.

Her breath was cold and visible as it left her mouth and fell over him, bringing with it the sugar sweet of the cotton candy she'd eaten as well as something faintly and disturbingly metallic.

"Maybe you could see things more clearly this way…" she mused in a quiet, distracted voice.

He blinked. "What'd you mean?"

She only smiled a secret smile. Like she'd just told him an inside joke.

He searched her eyes for an answer, the warm brown giving nothing away. They only reflected his searching.

He was suddenly struck with something. Something new.

It flickered and inspired, taking residence inside and forcing a sensation of wonder. Like seeing the world for the first time.

It was hope.

Hope that Minami wouldn't choose to attack. That'd she'd prove him wrong. That she'd change it all and bring something more to his empty purpose. That there would be more to what he'd been told.

That there'd be new dimensions to the world that he hadn't discovered. That this bleak, black and white canvas wasn't all there was.

Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.

Those words came back to him and he reached out as they did, for once not entirely sure of the objective of his actions as he circled his hand around her wrist, to where her pulse danced.

She had gone still as he moved, seeming to be caught off guard the way she'd been doing to him all night.

Her pulse quickened and he saw fear flash through her eyes. It confirmed that she knew exactly who he was.

He didn't want to have to take that pulse.

Don't put me in that position, he suddenly looked intently at her, silently trying to reach her with his thoughts.

To reach the person she was holding ransom.

He decided then that he would leave it up to her. That he'd give her the choice. If she attacked, he wouldn't hesitate, but he wouldn't make a move against her until then, assignment or not.

He wanted to serve what was true here and he hoped Minami would reveal it to him, one way or another.

Then, as if she were attempting to take back some control of the situation, the girl leaned closer still and he stared down at her as she paused, her breath passing over his mouth before she slowly pressed her lips to his.

Arima didn't move at first, the particular sensation unfamiliar and strange. But he went with it. Strangest of all, he felt his own pulse quicken the moment she'd done it.

And there also was that intangible thing again. That liveliness he'd felt earlier, taking him and lingering this time.

But then Minami drew back, eyes downcast, and it began to fade.

Arima didn't know what the elusive sensation meant but he chased it anyway as he moved his hand to lift her face. He watched her eyes widen with surprise as he leaned toward her and met her lips again.

The liveliness returned at once, flaring and sparking in his chest and bringing the faintest color to the black and white canvas he'd been living in.

He closed his eyes, giving himself to the sensations around him. The rain, the motion of the ride as it slowly descended, the clapping thunder, and her. This enigmatic person.

When she drew back and he opened his eyes, she was searching again before seeming to find what she'd been looking for.

"There it is," she said in a quiet voice. "What was missing."

And he wondered if his eyes looked the same as Taishi's — if she could see that lively feeling too.

It was already fading, never something to be held onto by him and as it did he lowered his hand away from her and sat back.

Minami blushed deeply as if just now realizing what she'd said, what she'd done, and looked away.

"I'm so sorry, Arima-kun. I'm not being myself."

He covered his eyes with his glasses and smiled slightly.

"Neither am I, it seems."

In so many ways.

They didn't speak for the remainder of the ride and Minami kept her distance as they stepped off and moved through the carnival again.

They sloshed through puddles of water, the wind nearly excruciating as it bit against their wet skin.

"How about something hot to drink?" Arima offered as he watched Minami shivering and failing to keep herself warm.

"Oh, uhm," she nodded, still not meeting his eyes. "Alright."

He led them to a beverage cart and was relieved to find there was no one else in line. The carnival was clearing out rather quickly as people dashed around to find shelter.

"What would you like?"

"A coffee," she answered in a small voice. "No cream or sugar."

"Right," he smirked knowingly, before turning to place her order.

"And I'll have one with cream," he added.

The man prepared the drinks quickly and when he handed them over Arima was almost reluctant to turn and leave the warmth coming from the cart.

Prying himself away, he stepped to Minami, handing her the styrofoam cup.

"Thank you, Arima-kun."

He only nodded and took a sip from his own cup, slightly grimacing as he did. The heat was nice as it slid down his throat, but the quality was truly awful.

And despite her embarrassment over what had happened between them, Minami giggled.

"Is it bad?"

"Well…" he began as he peered down at the creamy liquid, narrowing his eyes and trying to offer something optimistic. "It's warm."

He glanced over and smiled sympathetically as the girl drank from hers. She didn't grimace, but she nodded.

"Yes…that's a shame. I usually love coffee. This tastes like the stuff they have at school."

He almost chuckled as he turned to continue moving through the nearly empty carnival. "I usually grab something on the way, but if I'm desperate, yes, I'll drink it. It can be hard to stay awake without it sometimes."

"I have lots of energy."

"I've noticed."

"…which means I don't have much of an excuse for drinking school coffee."

"You don't," he answered flatly, though amused.

They fell quiet again, sipping from the warmth of the coffee. Arima found that his questions were silent too and that some sort of certainty was replacing them. There were many things now to try and understand, but he was increasingly aware of the need to reach that understanding.

Up ahead, he saw the Go-Karts track and the bright orange hair of the boy standing there waiting for them.

Arima's eyes fell to the girl beside him as she also saw Taishi, glint passing through her gaze again.

In spite of what he hoped and the new observations he'd made of her, even in spite of the attachment he was guilty of too…he had a haunting suspicion that she'd still give in to her ghoulish nature and that he'd still have to steal the life from her.

But the choice is yours, Minami.

The hope that she'd defy even his own suspicions was overwhelming and he tightened his hand around the cup he held.

+.+.+.+.+.+

No escaping from the road behind
The path ahead goes left or right
Stay
Tell me all the words I cannot speak
Tell me how to make you see
Tell me how I even begin